


The Letter

by rottnrotty



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Friends, First Kiss, HP: EWE, Healing, Love, Love Confessions, Lucius Malfoy went to Azkaban after the War, M/M, Post-War, Suicidal Thoughts, Understanding, voldemort - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 20:46:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11215980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rottnrotty/pseuds/rottnrotty
Summary: Lucius Malfoy had been in Azkaban for over a year when he received the letter.Dear Mr. Malfoy,This is Harry Potter.I am in love with your son.





	The Letter

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic in this fandom, and I hope I did the pairing of Draco and Harry justice.

Lucius Malfoy had been in Azkaban for over a year when he received the letter.

 

_Dear Mr. Malfoy,_

 

_This is Harry Potter._

_I am in love with your son._

_I'm sure that will come as somewhat of a shock to you.  If you are looking for someone to blame, look no further than your idol.  The Dark Lord.  Voldemort._

_You see, from the first time I met Draco, it was obvious that we were destined to be mortal enemies.  I loathed everything he stood for.  The pure blood mania, the muggle hatred, the poor treatment of other magical creatures, like house elves and hippogriffs.  The vile things your son said made my blood boil._

_Without Voldemort's return, and the subsequent war, I'd still think of your son as a slimy, cowardly little git. And I'm sure he'd still be calling me scarhead, and insisting that I craved fame like a starving attention whore._

_Instead, Draco came to me, after the war.  Broken and alone, he crawled to me on his hands and knees, begging me for...something.  Help?  Understanding?  Forgiveness?  Maybe just the chance to start fresh.  I'm not sure what he wanted, I was too broken myself at the time to care.  We were just two shattered boys, unable to face the world._

_Did you know that most of Draco's friends turned their backs on him?  They didn't want to associate with a known Death Eater.  They left him to fend for himself.  Fucking Slytherin weaklings, always doing what is best for themselves.  Who cares if your friend slowly becomes a ghost, as long as you have a steady job and the acknowledgement of your peers?_

_At first, we didn't talk much.  Who am I kidding, we didn't talk at all.  We lumbered around the house in silence, eating when we had to, catching sleep when the nightmares allowed us.  It wasn't living, it was existing, in its plainest form._

_It would be a lie to say I didn't contemplate ending it all sometimes.  What a joke, right?  Voldemort wanted me dead for years, and I fought so hard all that time to stay in the world.  Suddenly, I was seeking a way out of it.  The only thing that kept me from acting on those urges was Draco.  I was worried about what would happen to him, if I was gone._

_The circumstances of our upbringings couldn't have been more different. Draco grew up loved and cherished.  By you.  I find it hard, to admit that you aren't all bad.  But I can't fault the love you have for your son.  I know that Mrs. Malfoy feels the same.  Her love for Draco turned her against Voldemort at the last minute.  Did you know that?  She let me live, just so she could be assured of Draco's safety._

_No one loved me as a child.  I grew up in a cupboard under the stairs, with an Aunt and Uncle who used to pretend I didn't exist.  My cousin bullied me mercilessly.  I cooked and cleaned for them.  Most house elves are shown more affection than I ever received.  The first time I got a birthday or Christmas present wasn't until I went to Hogwarts, and finally made my own friends._

_Draco cried when he heard about my past.  We both cried a lot, in the early days, when we finally started sharing confidences.  He had assumed I grew up in the lap of luxury, surrounded by adoring family, friends, and fans willing to do my every bidding.  When we first met, he confused my trepidation and dumbfounded awe with snobbery and selfishness. I was overwhelmed with the wizarding world, and the circumstances I found myself in as the mythical 'Boy Who Lived.'  I would have traded all the fame, all the attention, for just a minute of time with my parents._

_All through school, I held fast to the belief that Draco and I couldn't be more different.  We were on opposite ends of a spectrum, at least in my mind.  Now, I realize that we have always had more in common than I wanted to admit.  When I arrived at Hogwarts, the sorting hat contemplated putting me in Slytherin.  I wonder what would have happened, if I hadn't met the Weasleys at Kings Cross station, thus begging the hat to sort me into Gryffindor with my new friend.  Would Draco and I have gotten along?  Become best friends?  Whatever would have happened, it will remain a mystery.  You can't change the past._

_Believe me, I have tried._

_The war has changed us both, and I can't honestly say it is for the better._

_I wish I knew Draco, when he was a boy.  In school, I only got to see the hard, sharp side of him.  Around me, he was always encased in an aura of jealousy and anger.  Now that I get to witness the soft, caring side, I know it was probably always there, just not on display for the likes of me.  Draco always did inspire loyalty and devotion at Hogwarts.  If only I could have caught a glimpse at what his inner circle got to see!_

_Now I am his inner circle.  And I understand where the loyalty came from.  Even in his present fragile state, Draco exudes a confidence that begs people to follow.  I used to think he was pompous.  I've decided now he was just sure of himself, something I never was.  He was certain in his beliefs.  Beliefs you and your wife had instilled in him, from a young age.  Can you see, why he came to me, so broken?  Having those childhood assumptions stripped away was devastating for Draco.  He loved and trusted you, yet you led him astray._

_When I look at Draco, I see a man who is just figuring out his true potential.  He struggles everyday, with his part in the war.  The hand he had in Dumbledore's death.  The fact that he couldn't or didn't help Hermoine more at the Manor.  The torture he was forced to inflict.  He did it all for you!  To keep your family safe.  Draco sold his soul to Voldemort so that you wouldn't suffer.  Would you have done the same for him?_

_Draco thinks he is a coward, and maybe he's right, in a way.  He picked what was easy, instead of standing up for what was right.  But I don't really blame him for that, anymore.  I can't say I wouldn't have done the same, had I been raised as he was.  I've craved a parent's love all my life.  If they had lead me down the path to Voldemort, maybe I would have blindly followed, too._

_I try to point out to Draco that at his core, he is a good person.  Certainly better than you, Mr. Malfoy.  You nearly caused countless deaths in our second year, with Tom Riddle's diary. Did you lose any sleep, even one second, over that?  At the graveyard, you were so willing to cast blame on anyone other than yourself, not caring about the consequences, as long as you remained unscathed.  You gave your own house to Voldemort, and let him torture and kill countless people there.  What kind of a role model were you, for your son?_

_Sometimes, I'm shocked that he's been able to recover at all.  He clings to the conviction that he is evil.  It's not true.  I know he recognized me, at the Manor, but he didn't turn me in.  He had a clear shot at Dumbledore, yet even though the Headmaster was imploring Draco to use the killing curse, he was lowering his wand, unable to do it.  And once, I walked in on him breaking down.  I had been following him all year, trying to prove that he was up to something, and the proof was right in front of me.  Yet I couldn't help but feel sorry for him, as I watched him cry.  Instead of helping, I nearly killed him that night.  The blood; I had never seen so much blood.  I had also never been so scared in my whole life.  Not facing down dragons, or Voldemort.  The possibility of Draco Malfoy's death at my own hands was the most terrifying thing I could imagine._

_Truth be told, it still is._

_It's funny, in a way, how we classify things as 'good' and 'evil'.  Like there are only two options.  Black and white.  Life experience has taught me that nothing is black and white.  We are all just various shades of grey.  Draco is certainly not evil, just like I am not all good.  I'm as grey as the next person._

_That is what I had to come to terms with, after the war.  Everyone saw me as Harry Potter, the Saviour._   _I just felt like Harry Potter, the failure, same as always.  So many people I loved had died.  Some even protecting me!  People expected me to be joyous.  The war was over, Voldemort was gone, we could all celebrate.  I just couldn't. There was nothing for me to rejoice in.  I was happy for the friends who had survived, but it wasn't enough._

_Draco understood that.  He didn't judge me for being depressed, as most people did.  He listened, and sympathized, and accepted how I felt.  No one else offered me that type of support._

_Is it weird, to think of the Saviour of the wizarding community falling in love with a boy who has a Dark Mark tattooed on his arm?  To you, maybe. And probably to the outside world.  But to me, it makes perfect sense.  I'm not that same wide-eyed boy starting my first year at Hogwarts, and neither is Draco.  We've grown, and learned from our mistakes, and found unexpected comfort in each other._

_In short, Mr. Malfoy, your son saved my life.  He saved me from my dark thoughts, and showed me that there was someone else out there that got what it was like to be constantly questioning your own self worth.  I'm finally starting to see the good in the world again._

_And I see so much good in Draco Malfoy._

_I'm not sure what I hoped to accomplish with this letter.  Maybe I just needed you to know that your judgements of me all those years ago were wrong.  Or possibly, I wanted to rub my friendship with Draco in your face.  I think mostly, I wanted to assure you that in spite of your best efforts, your son is an amazing person._

_He is worthy of loyalty, devotion, and love.  And I'm willing to give it to him.  I'm just not sure if he'll ever be able to accept it, from me._

_That's the thing that terrifies me second-most, after Draco's death.  The fact that he may never feel the same.  He'll keep getting better, and once he is healed, he'll leave me, broken all over again._

_Don't worry, I'll never let him know.  I would never do that to him.  If he found out, he'd probably stay, out of a sense of misguided integrity.  You have my full assurance that I would never let that happen._

_I just love your son, with all my heart, and I thought someone should know._

 

_Yours Truly,_

_Harry Potter_

 

Lucius watched his son carefully as Draco read the letter.  This was Draco's first visit to Azkaban, and up until this point, things had been stilted.  The easy comradery they once shared had been killed in the war.  Draco had changed, that much was evident.  He still looked the same; pale blonde hair immaculately styled, robes freshly laundered and in top repair.  It was the boy himself who was altered.  There was no sneering, or rude comments. Draco seemed oddly peaceful for the first time in his life.  It wasn't the Draco that Lucius knew, but it was one he was willing to get to know, if he was given the privilege.  If Harry had been right about anything in that blasted letter, it was how much Lucius loved his son.

Finally, Draco rolled up the parchment, and handed it back to his father without a word.  Surprisingly, the conversation flowed a little easier after that.  Draco made a promise to come back in a month, and when he left, Lucius could have sworn he saw the corner of Draco's mouth tilting up just the slightest bit.

***

When Draco returned to Grimmauld Place, he was greeted by the sight of Harry passed out shirtless on one of the couches.  A fond smile settled on his face as he made his way towards the snoring man.  Carefully, he lifted Harry's head, and snuck into the spot, placing Harry's cheek gently on his thigh.  Draco leaned back, resting his head on the back of the couch, and closed his eyes.  Gathering his courage, he allowed himself to run a hand gently over Harry's exposed back, revelling in the heat radiating from the other boy's skin.

Harry and Draco didn't touch like this.  They had shared a few hugs when they were first dealing with the horror of the war, but recently, they kept physical contact to a minimum.  They certainly never slept in the same room together.  It felt liberating, to be so close to Harry.  Draco felt almost delirious with giddy anticipation.

Harry was stirring slightly in Draco's lap.  Draco stilled his hand for a moment, doubt clouding his mind.  What if Harry was upset with his forwardness?  He was touching Harry without his permission.  Draco shrugged, and decided if Harry was pissed, he might as well go for broke.  He resumed the leisurely stroking of Harry's back, earning a muffled sigh of pleasure.

After what seemed like a lifetime, but was most likely only a few minutes, Harry opened his eyes, and sought out Draco immediately.  They sat unmoving, Harry's head in Draco's lap, starring at each other, for a long, breathless moment.  Then Harry slowly started to sit up, and Draco instantly missed the contact and heat from Harry's body.  The blonde panicked slightly, and grabbed at Harry with desperate hands, pulling him in.  Harry fell onto Draco awkwardly, landing sideways in his lap.  As Harry attempted to shift, Draco gently steered him so that they were facing each other, with Harry straddling Draco's thighs.  The look on Harry's face was one of pure astonishment.  It caused Draco's heart to ache, so he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss onto the nape of Harry's neck.

"I thought you should know," Draco mumbled quietly into Harry's skin, "that I love you."  Draco felt the boy in his lap stiffen, and hastened to continue. He ran calming hands up and down Harry's sides.  "Not because you are Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World, or because you are The Boy Who Lived.  I love you because I know who you are, deep inside.  I know your fears, and your desires, and your strengths.  And you know me, the same way, better than anyone has ever known me before."  Draco pulled away from Harry's neck and leaned back, initiating eye contact once again.  In a daze, Harry brought his arms up to entwine around Draco's neck.  "I'm glad it's you.  I love you, Harry."

There was a moment where no words were spoken, and two boys gazed into each other's eyes.  For Draco, it was tense as he awaited a reply, but for Harry, it was utterly magical.  "I love you too, Draco," Harry stated, a shy smile stealing over his face.

"Christ, Potter, way to give a bloke a heart attack," Draco said, a bit of the old Slytherin snarkiness showing through.

"Shut up and kiss me," Harry drawled, as his smile widened.

Draco leaned forward, and caught Harry's lips instantly.  It felt better than heaven.  It felt like home.  He tilted his head slightly to deepen the kiss, and was pleasantly surprised by how well they seemed to fit together.

If anyone had told Draco, back in first year, that he would end up falling in love with Harry bleeding Potter, his worst enemy, he would have bet the Malfoy fortune against such an outcome.  It's funny how things change.  For the first time ever, Draco didn't despair about the war.  Without it, he and Harry would never have come together.  It changed them both, just enough to be the person the other needed.  And Draco refused to feel bad about that.


End file.
